The Apple Genius Bar Rocks!

Customer service has been a big part of my background. I always strived to deliver exceptional service, especially while I was helping to grow two family businesses with my parents, siblings, my spouse and others. We lived and thrived by the outstanding service we provided to our clients, and built long-term high-quality relationships because of it. Consequently, I really appreciate what it takes for a company to do the right thing when the people and products don’t click together the way you had hoped.

Enter the Apple Genius Bar. I recently had the opportunity to use this service twice, in the Salem, NH Apple Store , as I was having difficulty moving all of my bookmarks, finances and general information-my digital life!-to my shiny new computer. In the process of the migration, something also went awry on my old laptop.

I made a reservation online, received a confirming email, and the following day showed up about five minutes before my appointment. The “concierge” (they wear orange shirts, in case you are in the store) checked me in upon arrival, and told me I didn’t have to wait in line, as she would come to get me when my turn came.

I sat down at the bar when called, and briefly explained the issues to my helper. Not only did the resident genius cheerfully, clearly, patiently and companionably help me get everything where it belonged so the new Mac was ready to roll, but also offered a simple solution to the issue on my older system.

Helpful Genius: “How old is your browser? She checks. “Oh, my… I’ll bet we can download the latest version, and that may just fix this issue.” She starts the download.

Me: I restart when it is complete and open the troublesome program. It works just fine now. Duh. I go to the bathroom in the store where I can slap myself on the forehead in private for not thinking of that simple solution.

The genius had me check around different areas of my new system to make sure the problems had been solved, which they had. Wahoo! I was up and running again.

I have been assisted by other Apple Store staff and have taken one of their many free workshops (imovie 09 is amazing, by the way!) and cannot stress enough how helpful, pleasant, organized, knowledgeable and patient each person was.

I love the service. I love the folks who talk to me in terms I understand rather than “geek speak”. I love not being treated as an idiot, and I especially love having people who can either help me with easy solutions to my simple problems-at no charge!-or can let me know if I’m facing a repair (you mean I can’t let the dog’s energetic tail swipe the computer to the floor, then spill water on it, and still expect it to work like new?).

This is what exceptional service looks like. Simply put: The Apple Genius Bar is genius!

How is the level of your "customer service" that you give to your family, friends and co-workers? I encourage you to keep the Golden Rule in mind: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. This can go a long way towards guiding you to building relationships that are a little less rocky and a lot richer. Practice this starting today. You will be glad you did.

The power of words

Word cloud created by Wordle

The awesome power of the handwritten word seems to be in direct contradiction with its often plain and homespun appearance. It can reach deep into our hearts to bring forth joy, laughter, hope and love. A wrinkled, grubby scrap of paper, inscribed with our child’s first handwritten words fills our heart to bursting with pride. A message of appreciation from our boss, jotted on a sticky note and tacked to our desk, reminds us that what we do matters. Short and sweet words of encouragement tucked into a family member’s lunchbox delights and uplifts in mid-day.

Do not underestimate the power of the handwritten word to touch someone now, and then much later, reach across time and take your breath away.

Many years ago, my hubbie decided to write a letter to his dad, Marshall, for Father’s Day. We had become parents of a premature baby girl in January of that year, and had gained a new perspective and much greater respect for our parents. (Funny how that works...) Keith put his blue pen to an unadorned piece of lined notebook paper, and poured out a simple message of love and gratitude to his very straightforward, what-you-see-is-what-you-get, old school dad.

I don’t remember Keith writing or giving this present, nor do I recall Marshall’s reaction. What I do know now, however, is this: Keith’s dad carefully folded up that note, and carried it with him, in his wallet, for the twelve remaining years of his life. We possess this gift now, as Keith’s mom gave it to us, in all its mildly tattered and much-loved condition. I came across it yesterday as we were organizing and repacking some of our stuff, and tears suddenly welled up, as I was struck by how much it meant to my father-in-law.

How incredibly grateful I am that Keith was able to let his dad know what he meant to him, and how deeply touched we both were, so many years later, when we learned how much Marshall treasured that priceless gift.

What message do you need to share with someone in your life? A note of thanks, support, humor or love? Grab a pen and some paper, and write it today.

A canary in a coal mine

Small cage with canary bird used in testing for carbon monoxide gas. Hollinger Mine, Timmons, Ontario, Canada. Mine Fire 02/10/1928

US Mining Safety and Health Administration

For those happy campers who may not have an historical knowledge of mining, here is just a bit of background. Early on, caged canaries were taken down into the coal mines as air quality monitors. If the birds died, the miners knew that they had to get out immediately, as their air supply had been compromised.

My doctor used this phrase on me some time ago, when I was experiencing an unusual series of health issues. My health practitioner is great, as he doesn’t just look at and treat the symptoms, but works at getting to the underlying causes and eliminating those. Might I add a note here that this is such a refreshing concept in medical care!

After several visits over just a few weeks, my doctor looked me in the eye and said, “Have you considered, Kim, that all of these issues are related, and that they are your canary in a coal mine?” After a significant pause where he fixed my gaze with his, he continued. “Have you considered that there is something in your life causing substantial stress, and that it is manifesting itself in these symptoms?” Another pregnant pause filled the moment here, while I considered making a run for it in my open-backed johny and bare feet, but much to my imagined relief of the office staff and general public, I did not.

My doctor did not press me for answers, but he had opened a door I had been trying in vain to keep shut. You see, I had a job in a field I loved. Yet, I had reached a point where I was struggling daily with giving my notice. I didn’t want to leave my position, but after my most recent appointment, I forced myself to take a long, hard look at what was going on. What I discovered-what I knew, really, in my heart, but had not wanted to see-was that while this job fulfilled a dream of mine, it took away other very important aspects of my life: spending time with family and friends, and volunteering for my church, and it was costing me financially to continue. I found myself on the horns of a dilemma, and was being tossed around hard by it.

Laura Schlessinger writes about dilemmas in her book, “How Could You Do That?!: The Abdication of Character, Courage, and Conscience”. Very loosely paraphrasing here, she defines a dilemma as the collision between something you want to do and doing the right thing.

Ouch. There it was, the epicenter of my stress: my desire to be in this field, at this job, bulldozing over those things I held most near and dear.

At that point, my situation was revealed in stark clarity, and I sadly realized I had to make a choice. Soon thereafter, I tearfully gave my notice, and yet, was surprised and encouraged when I felt a huge weight lifting from my shoulders as I headed home that night.

The various symptoms that had been plaguing me are gone, and, today and every day, I work towards maintaining an appropriate balance in my life. Some days I do better than others, and some days it takes something outside of myself to point out that the canary has flown the coop.

How is your canary? Is she singing a full-throated song of joy, or has her music been silenced by unresolved dilemmas in your life?

One for the girls

Normally, I am not a person who forwards many emails. Who has time, with all the responding required to those requests for assistance from deposed dignitaries from third world countries who are prepared to send you millions of dollars?

However, this one made me smile--even though there is no promise of riches within. I hope you enjoy it as well. I mean, really, how can you not just love this photo that accompanied the email?

One for the girls
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my shape to keep..
Please no wrinkles, Please no bags
And please lift my butt before it sags.
Please no age spots, Please no gray
And as for my belly, Please take it away.
Please keep me healthy, Please keep me young,
And thank you Dear Lord, For all that you've done.

Somewhere over the train wreck

Photo by bethinAZ

When I was a youngster, my dad played the guitar and banjo, and was sometimes joined by a friend who played as well. I always enjoyed listening to them, and was inspired enough to pick up the guitar. Occasionally, when I was a bit older, I would even sing out at public venues with a friend who was a much more accomplished musician than I. (We did get “Gonged” once in a contest, but that’s an embarrassing story for another day.)

Fast-forward many, many years, and much gathering of dust on the instruments.

Dad heard the siren call of the music and he soon found himself “pickin’ and grinnin’” again. A couple of family members and friends would join him to strum a few tunes, and those small gatherings have now blossomed into an official weekly Jam Night, replete with a full blown studio, which includes two mixing boards, sizeable speakers and microphones for all. There is no audition required; just a willingness to join in, play, sing and have boat loads of fun, as our relatives this past weekend enthusiastically discovered.

My daughters and I-while we can respectably carry a tune-regularly massacre a song my oldest has nicknamed “Somewhere Over the Train Wreck”. Our entrances are untimely, our “oohs” are wobbly, and we jump octaves in mid-song. I’m sure Dorothy is weeping copiously into Toto’s fur somewhere, murmuring, “There’s no place for amateurs, there’s no place for amateurs”.
However, we have fun. We laugh, we joke, we sometimes sing off-key and play the wrong chords. There are times we sound pretty good; we have noticed an improvement since we started. Ultimately, though, Jam Night is more about enjoying ourselves and being ok with our own imperfection.

Do you tend to be really hard on yourself? Perhaps it is time to lighten up, laugh a little more, and accept that it’s ok to be a work in progress, somewhere on the path between the train wreck and the rainbow.

For your listening pleasure, I have posted the video of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World”, by Israel Kamakawiwo'ol, the version to which my girls and I aspire. Enjoy!

A leap of faith

Photo by laurenatclemson

Do you remember the scene in the movie, “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” in which Indy had to locate and retrieve the Holy Grail in order to heal his father? At one point, our hero was running through a tunnel, and he came to a sudden halt as his path opened out onto the side of a mountain, with nowhere to go but down. Indy was obviously torn, as he saw no way to get across to the next peak, yet he knew he had to move forward, or his dad would die.

He was at that crossroad where we too often find ourselves, where he needed to believe there was a way, and yet he could not see it. He closed his eyes and took his leap of faith-a single step forward-and when he didn’t freefall into the chasm, his eyes popped open in absolute surprise. He stepped back, bent down, and examined the area where he had just stood. Throwing a handful of sand in that direction, he revealed the previously invisible bridge. (Ladies, knowing that most of us carry pocketbooks, we probably instead would have just reached in and scooped out a bunch of the debris from the bottom.)

Indiana discovered that, indeed, there was a way forward, now that he knew where to look and how to see. For sure, this portion of his journey was not comfortable, as the narrow, aerial ribbon allowed no room for error in the placement of Jones’ footsteps. Yet, this adventurer made his way safely to the other side, to continue his life-saving quest.

So often we get stuck in our lives, thinking there is no way out of a difficulty. Yet, when we change our point of view to the possibility that there might be, we can draw on our faith and step forward confidently onto the newly revealed path.

Do you need to move out of somewhere or something today? Take a moment to find a fresh perspective, and entertain the possibility that there is, indeed, a way out.

In loving memory

A few weeks ago, I spent a day with my youngest daughter, and we drove up to my grandparents’ home in Northern Vermont. It was not a traditional visit, as my grandmother passed away just before this past Christmas, and my grandfather now resides in a nursing home. We visited the empty house this time-home to my grandparents for over 55 years, and for my mom for her entire youth-to collect Gram’s shells and bring them home.

My maternal grandmother was an amazing woman. She taught, she stenciled in the Early American style, she hand-made her clever and touching Christmas cards (around 100!) every year, she wrote three family histories, she preached as a lay minister, and spoke to groups about her multiple interests. Her shell collecting was a real passion for her, and she eagerly shared her knowledge with people of all ages.

There is an entire bedroom in her home that was dedicated to shell storage. Boxes of all sizes and varieties held sorted and labeled shells, along with her books and materials for her presentations. While most of the collection was kept upstairs, there were a few treasures that Gram kept on display. A lovely piece of coral and a Nautilus were two that Leslie remembered admiring as a little girl, and she asked to take those home, as well as a beautiful piece of driftwood that Gram had rescued from a Florida beach.

It was a good day, spent with a daughter I love, whose company I enjoy, remembering my grandmother, who was a very special person. While I am grateful that Gram has been freed of her physical suffering, I miss her lots, and I am sorry that I did not make the time in my adult life to spend more time with her. She was and is an incredible inspiration to me, and for that I am deeply thankful.

This week, we will head north again, but this time it is to say our final goodbyes. My mom wanted to be able to share something at Gram’s memorial service with the folks that will be attending, something that they could take with them in memory of her. To that end, Leslie and I designed the bookmark you see here. As Gram was an avid reader and a lover of artistic endeavors (especially those crafted by her grandchildren!), I have no doubt she would have delighted in and marveled at our creation. I smile at her memory, and know that she is smiling down from heaven in return.

Do you have someone in your life for whom you need to make time? I encourage you to contact them today.

Memorial bookmark (back)

A new day dawns

It’s funny where we end up in life. Very often, we find ourselves in places or doing things, for better or worse, that we never imagined when we were younger.

How about when you had your first baby, and you had to face the most disgusting diaper ever? Remember those sometimes endless nights of being up with your very sick child, cleaning up after her when she didn’t make it to the bathroom in time? Perhaps, instead, to make ends meet, you had to live in a place about which you’re embarrassed, or you had to take a job at which you felt overqualified.

Very possibly, you and I have a lot in common. I have done things with and for my children that still I can’t believe I had to do. I have taken jobs where I hoped no one I knew would find out what lowly position I held, and I have lived in places that, while fiscally responsible, were decorated in what my hubbie lovingly dubbed, “Early American yard sale”.

And we have survived all of this, and so much more. Being able to look back through that 20/20 corrective lens of hindsight, it wasn’t as bad or hopeless or endless as we sometimes thought. Oftentimes, what seemed to be a particularly difficult time or place, in retrospect offered lots of experience, a dose of humility, occasionally a funny story, and yet another fresh start.

Surprisingly, I find myself here now, a blogger, ready to share with you, writing about how we live our lives, and how we can move forward and be better, to find happiness wherever we are, and to share in the journey. I welcome you to this dawning day, and hope that you, too, will discover so many reasons to be too darn happy!